


faded stars

by Euphemia_13



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Emotional vomit, M/M, Soulmates AU, an inspired fic, break-up, lee minhyuk is mentioned, not-so confrontation scene i made to relieve my heart, onesided changki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 00:04:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14484171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euphemia_13/pseuds/Euphemia_13
Summary: He has a gut feeling Kihyun will break up with him.He just knows.Changkyun doesn’t want to but deep inside, he knows there’s no other decision left to be made about this. About them.





	faded stars

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cursed by Destiny, Mocked by the Universe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9374309) by [ClearSkyBlue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClearSkyBlue/pseuds/ClearSkyBlue). 



> this was all just emotional and word vomit, tbh. it seems i can only write that way ahahaha
> 
> i would like to thank my irl friend, maeve (who has sucessfully crossed the monsta x border and ships changki–precious), and @clearskyblue (for being such a lovely inspiration to write this mess down, and as well as for being kind and patient enough during the process of editing this fic). 
> 
> i cannot thank you enough <3

The lights of their apartment are too bright for his eyes. It causes Changkyun’s eyes to tear up a little bit, the bright light stinging and making them hurt. It makes him a little dizzy and unsteady, the floor almost shaking under his feet. All he wants now is to crash unto his bed and sleep. Then, probably, the discomfort would disappear; the tears in his eyes would stop flowing. He’d be able to flush the alcohol out of his body, and everything would be better once again. 

 

Maybe, just maybe, Changkyun hopes that the searing pain in his chest would disappear too. Preferably with the very cause of everything: the reason that he’s a little tipsy, the reason why he’s tired, uncomfortable, and drunk–although he never usually drinks. But even with all the alcohol he has drank tonight, he knows that it wouldn’t magically disappear. The pain has taken too much root in his heart and has stolen his breath and heartbeat every time he is reminded of it. 

 

The front door clicks open. And it closes. 

 

Changkyun is lying on the couch, his necktie loose and the top buttons of his shirt undone because it lets him breathe better. He can feel the air circulating in his lungs, and he almost can feel where his heart is located in his chest. There’s a specific area inside of him, not too far from the surface, that is too heavy for his body to carry. Its weight identifies itself to Changkyun, and he can feel it being pressed against his lungs– the reason why he can feel the air molecules roaming around, entering and exiting his nose alternately. 

 

He hears footsteps. Familiar footsteps. Changkyun doesn’t even need to open his eyes to know who it is. He’d know them anywhere, in any place. And if he’s being honest with himself, he would probably be familiar with them even in another life. The footsteps are making their way to the living room, which is situated at the far end of the apartment. The living room is intentionally placed beside the huge glass window– the apartment’s most special feature which presents the occupants a very majestic view of the city. Especially at night, when they are so high up, and the night lights of the buildings around the apartment tower normally reflect back a relaxing mood. However tonight, the atmosphere is sad. Changkyun feels melancholy, rather than comfort. 

 

The footsteps halt somewhere near him. Changkyun then hears nothing but silence. The air is void of any noise, and it’s almost comforting to the latter. He wants the silence; he doesn’t want the other to make any sound to break it. 

 

Changkyun wonders about what the other person thinks about the night sky outside the windows. What atmosphere does it reflect to him? Has Changkyun even asked him that? Has he ever asked Kihyun what he thought about the windows? If they made him feel as energetic as they made Changkyun feel during the day and as emotional at night? Probably not, he thinks. Kihyun was only home for brief periods of time, and truthfully… Truthfully, Changkyun thinks he doesn’t know Kihyun anymore. 

 

He doesn’t know anymore what’s going on in the other person’s mind, or what he’s thinking about. The thought is saddening to Changkyun; Kihyun was almost a stranger who nonetheless has his heart in his hand and his emotions tangled around his fingers. 

 

Changkyun doesn’t want to speak. He wants to stay in this present state of emptiness, because it’s better than the past that haunts him every time he thinks of it, and the future that has nothing of what Changkyun wants. But he does anyway. What he says is short, yet it took up all of his courage to speak. 

 

“Hello, Kihyun.” 

 

“Hi… Changkyun.” Kihyun’s voice rings in the empty air, and Changkyun remembers everything that made him fall, and it feels like he’s falling once again. His voice is thick and strong, yet smooth and flowing like water or honey dripping on a smooth marble surface. They remind Changkyun of the lullabies Kihyun used to sing to him to sleep whenever he had trouble doing so, and as well as the chiming laughter that made itself known whenever the latter found something funny. He has not heard much from that voice. To be more honest, he had missed that voice. 

 

He had also greatly missed the person who owned that voice. 

 

The person who was supposed to own Changkyun in every single aspect of his body and his soul, as they were supposed to be _soulmates_.

 

But during the past few weeks, Changkyun has learned the hard way that apparently you can _not love_ your soulmate and that it didn’t matter whether the universe paired you up together because you can do what you want to do and choose who you want to love. 

 

It’s sad that Kihyun didn’t love Changkyun the way Changkyun loved him, and the latter tries not to cry every single time he is reminded of that complex yet, at the same time, very simple fact. 

 

Thinking about it again returns all the emotions he’s been trying to suppress for the past few weeks. The area in his heart that felt heavy earlier has grown even heavier, and it takes a lot of Changkyun’s will not to spill any of the tears that threatened to exit his eyes. 

 

Changkyun inhales deeply. 

 

“There’s… there’s something I want to tell you.” Kihyun starts. 

 

This time, Changkyun had gotten up from his lying position and sat properly. He didn’t look at Kihyun because he knew he wouldn’t be able to do so properly. He knew every muscle in his body was going to betray him in every way possible, and Changkyun didn’t know what could possibly happen. He’d probably beg Kihyun to come back to him again, or do something else that’s embarrassing and desperate. (Thinking about it, Changkyun had been desperate these past few weeks. The thought questioning what difference would it make passed his through his mind.) 

 

“No, it’s okay,” Changkyun forces himself to say in an audible tone, not just to himself. He finds it hard to speak so loudly that it almost drains his energy in doing so. It’s on a normal speaking tone, but it feels too loud in his ears. “I understand, I do. I already know everything so… It’s okay, Kihyun.” 

 

There was a pregnant pause. The silence that Changkyun craved was back, and he wished it would stay like that forever. He wished Kihyun would not be so brutal and proceed to say more, probably to break up with him, because right now Changkyun feels like he’s going to break any time soon. 

 

He has a gut feeling Kihyun will break up with him. He just knows. 

 

Changkyun doesn’t want to, but deep inside he knows that there’s no other decision left to be made about this. About them.

 

“I want to break up.” 

 

Changkyun almost wants to believe the emotions that he hears in Kihyun’s voice rather than in his words. There’s a certain ring to his voice that contrasts what he’s saying. If he didn’t love Changkyun, then there should be disdain, disgust, or a monotonous tone somewhere. But what Changkyun hears is pity. There’s almost sadness and confusion. Changkyun almost wants to cling to those so badly, just so he gets Kihyun to stay by him, to continue to make him complete and whole. 

 

He knows, however, that it’s not something he has a heart to force Kihyun into doing. Changkyun’s not a fool. He can understand even the hardest of concepts. He understands that Kihyun no longer loves him, and while there’s something lingering around his voice, it’s not enough to make Kihyun stay. It’s not enough to make them happy for a long time. 

 

The very thought, the unfairness of it all, makes Changkyun angry. Despite the words he repeated to himself earlier before coming home– _I won’t be angry, I won’t be angry, I won’t be angry_ –his chest tightens and there’s something that gets stuck in his throat. 

 

“You know I don’t like getting mad,” Changkyun tells Kihyun. Now, his head hangs low, supported by both his hands at either side. He tries to soothe the pain in his head–an effect of the alcohol and all the thoughts that’s swirling in his mind. 

 

He’s tired of this, tired of everything. 

 

“I _loved_ you, you know?” Changkyun raises his head up to finally look at Kihyun. 

 

His thoughts spills as he rambles on.

 

“And you were supposed to love me back because we’re soulmates–and _fuck_ , I don’t even understand why we are here together, why we had this place that was supposed to be home to us, when you don’t even love me but I _fucking_ do. And god, it hurts, so much.”

 

Changkyun stops talking. He makes a mistake of glancing at the windows he had been thinking of earlier: the big windows that overlook Seoul and showcase its beauty whatever time of day it was. He remembers why he’s in this apartment–why they’re here, the both of them. It’s because they moved in together a couple of months back, and Changkyun can still remember how much of a good idea it was. That he and Kihyun had the same place that they would call home, and that they’d see each other more frequently. 

 

But that decision had proven itself to be a mistake.

 

The lies became more apparent. Everything suddenly became _crystal clear_ in Changkyun’s eyes. _Everything_. The situation became clear enough for him to understand.

 

He would be so much of an idiot not to understand it.

 

Changkyun laughs, all of a sudden. His deep voice fills the empty atmosphere. He’s a fool for dragging this too long. He feels like a fool for not expressing himself when he walked in on them back at Minhyuk’s house. Kihyun and that goddamn… that goddamn son of Satan whose name he doesn’t even dare say out loud. 

 

His name will be Changkyun’s breaking point.

 

Changkyun fails to keep his emotions in check. As if sitting down doesn’t provide him the air he needs, he stands up and faces Kihyun. 

 

 _Kihyun_. Kihyun, who had been Changkyun’s angel. Kihyun, who encompassed all of the world’s beauty, in his smiles, in his laughter, in his persona. Changkyun used to see the night sky of Seoul in Kihyun’s eyes, and they used to twinkle. Kihyun’s eyes always twinkled, and Changkyun used to compare them to the stars no matter how cheesy that sounded (and he tried not to be cheesy whenever it came to Kihyun because cheesiness was common and his love for him was not).

 

Now, however, the stars were lost in them. There was another source of light that brightened up his captivating eyes. Changkyun knew it was no longer the silvery dots in the sky, nor was it him. 

 

“How long were you going to keep me in the dark? Answer me! How long were you going to have fun fooling behind my back– I JUST DON’T FUCKING UNDERSTAND, I–“ Changkyun does not realize that he’s shouting, the alcohol biting at his system, but he does realize it when Kihyun visibly flinches in front of him, and Changkyun halts abruptly. 

 

The anger gets stuck in his throat, and he almost gags. He didn’t mean to shout, but it's too late to take that back now. He could have never imagined shouting at Kihyun, but now he has done it. He suddenly wants to vomit. There’s something– _regret, probably_ –in his stomach that’s distasteful, so vile. Changkyun wants to cough it out. 

 

He takes a moment to remember to breathe. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Changkyun’s voice cracks, and the tears start to fall, unable to be held back anymore. They’re angry and hurt-filled tears, both meant for himself and Kihyun, and they flow from his eyes down to his cheeks. 

 

Changkyun tries to breathe to keep himself stable, but it doesn’t help. He vividly remembers all the pain too well–all that he tried to hide inside him in his attempt to be strong. It’s hard not to remember, and Changkyun curses at himself. All the feelings he’s bottled up were now being released, with him having no control over them. He’s dumb. Changkyun shouldn’t have kept his feelings all to himself because he knew that everything that will happen afterwards will be messy, like a volcanic eruption. 

 

But at that time, he had thought it was making him strong.

 

“I swear, I tried to keep this…this civil. I didn’t want to be irrational and hurt you in the process and it's been days that I’ve been trying keep myself calm.” Changkyun quickly says, as a way of an apology. The tears continue to make its way down his face, and he finds it difficult to cry and speak at the same time. 

 

He makes another mistake of looking at Kihyun, and the volcano erupts inside of him. The eruption is contained inside of him, but the hot lava seeps through his veins. 

 

From Kihyun’s golden hair, down to his white canvas shoes, Changkyun can identify everything that made him love the older. He is a figure that has Changkyun’s heart caged. Changkyun is more than willing to give himself away because he’s Kihyun– he’s the most important thing in Changkyun’s life. When he looks at Kihyun, he sees the significance of his life. He was born to love him, to accompany him in every day of their lives, to soothe his problems away, to become his reusable tissue, and to stay with him until the end of their time. 

 

But now, at the same time, Kihyun reminds him of his own stupidity. Of his own idiocy, of his own _patheticness_. That he had let himself believe in the other: believe that Kihyun’s not cheating on him, and refusing to believe that Kihyun would ever even consider cheating–even when all of the evidences he needs to validate his gut feeling had been in front of him from the beginning. 

 

Kihyun has made him a fool. 

 

Changkyun’s blood boils at the very thought. He grips his hands into a tight fist, a weak attempt to fight off the negative emotion that has come with that thought. _No_ , he tells himself inwardly. _No, no, no, no_. Changkyun can feel his control slipping, anger arising from within him. _Suppress, suppress, supress_. It’s better to suppress than to release, because Changkyun will never resort to violence. Whatever pain he’s going through, he’ll have to die first before any part of his body hits anything, especially Kihyun. 

 

All of a sudden, Changkyun laughs again. He laughs to himself. He found his own thoughts to be ironic, and a humorless laughter echoes throughout the empty air. 

 

He talks, this time he’s talking to himself more than to Kihyun. They’re mostly excuses to escape his the unwanted thoughts. “I drank tonight, but not much. I know how to control myself.” Indeed, Changkyun had drank before coming home (what _home_ , exactly?). He drank a lot actually, about four or five bottles. He never usually drinks, but he has a high tolerance for alcohol and right now, he's sober, or at least he wants to believe he is. The alcohol has been a part of an attempt to numb his emotions. It does a good job for a while, but it will not last in the long run. 

 

Changkyun flops back down the couch and leans back. His eyes are fixed on the ceiling, on the lamp ornament that they picked out at the lights shop a few months before, when they were just moving in. It had crystals that, when light strikes it, reflect back brilliant shards of lights onto the ceiling, effectively lightened up the entire place. Kihyun had loved it so much. 

 

He will regret saying his next words. Changkyun knows he will. But there’s no other right place nor another moment to say what he wants to say but right here and right now. 

 

“I want to hurt you. To make you feel as bad as I do. To assure myself that I’m not the only one suffering. I hate getting mad, and you know that Kihyun. And I hate how much you were able to bring out this side of me. Who do you think you are to make me feel this way? Who do you think you are to make me so fucking angry?” Changkyun bites his lips to prevent a sob escape his lips.

 

He fails, however. He tastes iron in his mouth.

 

“I’m-I’m scared of being angry because I’ll lose control. And I’m so close to doing so but–,” Changkyun laughs once again, in between his sobbing. The laugh lacks emotion. It lacks affection or amusement. 

 

“How funny.” Changkyun says, almost to himself, when he had calmed down. Bitterness colors his tone. “I think I still love you. And that’s probably what's overpowering everything else.” A pause. “Even with such a short difference.” 

 

Kihyun made a sound, as if to speak. Changkyun’s attention was brought back to the older, and he decides that he doesn’t want him to speak. He doesn’t want to hear his voice for the last time. He doesn’t want to hear Kihyun’s voice, who was carrying words that could break him even more. 

 

Kihyun’s softest whisper can crack the edges of Changkyun. But what more can harsh sentences which tell him Kihyun doesn’t love him anymore do? 

 

Changkyun stands and faces Kihyun one last time. He stares directly at his eyes, blurring everything besides the older’s brown orbs. He desperately wants to memorize every detail of Kihyun so that he’ll never forget the face of his loved one. Even when Changkyun wakes up to an empty space beside him on the bed starting tomorrow morning ( _he had always woken to an empty side, though?_ ), he wants to at least remember everything that he had loved about Kihyun. 

 

But Changkyun doesn’t let himself do that. 

 

“Get your things out, Kihyun. All of them. I want this place cleared of your traces. I want nothing of you to remain here. As if you never existed.” He could feel his expression morph into something lifeless, something emotionless. But while his face gets rid of emotion, his breathing gets heavier. He wants to go out of here. The air is choking him. _Kihyun_ is choking him. He wants to be anywhere but in front of Kihyun. 

 

“Changkyun, I–“ 

 

"But do me a favor and fucking remember me. It’s the least you can do.” 

 

Changkyun betrays himself, however. He can’t help himself but look at Kihyun. His vision clears, and he sees Kihyun looking back at him with an expression Changkyun couldn’t understand, and tears that are running down his face. He hears the older let out soft sobs, and the sound resurfaces Changkyun into reality from being drowned in his emotions. 

 

He had been so caught up with the chaos inside of him that he had turned blind and deaf to Kihyun. He hadn’t even noticed that the older is crying. _Kihyun is crying_. Kihyun is crying, and Changkyun feels like his heart is being torn repeatedly like paper.

 

It takes all of Changkyun’s strength to stop himself from pulling Kihyun into his embrace and wipe his tears away–to hold him how he used to. For every tear that Kihyun sheds, there’s also something unidentifiable in Changkyun that falls. To Changkyun, every teardrop hits the floor like glass shattering to a million pieces. The inexistent sound rings in Changkyun’s ears, and the intensity increases when he hears his own heart break as well. 

 

But he turns away before he can even get the chance to blurt his regret and take all his words back.

 

Changkyun walks past Kihyun. His breathing gets ragged and inconsistent, and he desperately looks at the doorknob of the front door of the apartment. With turmoil, loathing, anger, frustration, sadness, and emptiness inside of him, he tries to keep himself steady. Changkyun opens the door and leaves, closing the door behind him with a soft click. 

 

And then, he _runs_. 

 

He bolts for the elevator that will take him down. His cries, now unrestrained, becomes louder. He starts running out of the building, running away from Kihyun as fast as he can–as if his life depended on it. He runs, with no clear destination in mind. 

 

Changkyun guesses there’s no need for clear destinations in his life from now on. Not when his life’s significance is no longer with him.

**Author's Note:**

> rant at me on [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/changhyukmx)? and (i know this is such a sad fic but) always ship CHANGKI hohoho <3


End file.
